Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been A Traitor?
by parttimeficwriter
Summary: Set immediately after 9.8. H/R


**I've been trying to find the time to write this fic since 9.8 aired and have only just managed it thanks to work and uni and family commitments. I do, However, now have a week off and intend to have some quality writing time so hopefully this won't be the only fic from me this week. It hasn't been beta'd so all the mistakes are mine and mine alone, just ignore them!**

**I don't own Spooks, I think we all know that, don't we? Excellent. **

**This is set immediately after 9.8 ends.

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The night air was cold as she stepped out on to the roof looking for him. He wasn't hard to find. His hunched over figure caught her attention instantly, her step faltering as she realised he was on the phone. She waited, silently watching him as he ended the call and slipped the mobile into his pocket and knew instinctively that all was not well.

"Not good news I take it?" she asked as she made her approach despite being able to read the fatigue and displeasure on his face.

"No."

"There's going to be an investigation." It wasn't a question. Ever since he had returned to the Grid, relatively unscathed, after his face off with Lucas she had known that soon there would be a price to pay and that one of them would have to pay it.

"Yes," he answered, softly, looking out across the city.

"How long do we have?"

"Not long I'd imagine."

"What will you do?"

He breathed deeply and leant forward against the railing as he answered, "Nothing."

"Harry, you can't just-" she protested, automatically only to cut herself off as the anger started to choke her at the injustice of it all.

"I can't just, what, Ruth?" he asked, gently, turning to face her fully for the first time. "What can't I do?"

"Do nothing," she choked, "give in."

He started at her intently wanting to remember how she looked in this moment. Gone was the mask of indifference and resignation that she had been sporting recently and in its place mixed with the hurt and the anger was a spark of ferocious passion, the likes of which he hadn't seen in her eyes since before she sailed away on that tug all those years before. She was magnificent in that moment and he loved her all the more for the signs of life she was now showing.

"I committed treason, Ruth," he murmured, a wry smile claiming his face, "I admitted as much to the Home Secretary. It would be rather hard to deny it now."

"Yes, but under the circumstances-"

"I'm afraid they'll see it much the same as you did," he said, cutting her off, "it was selfish of me to betray this country's secrets for the life of one person. Someone of my rank, my experience, should have known better. Feelings should never have come in to it," he smiled at her sadly, "but they did and it turns out that I am only human after all." He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, "I'm willing to accept the consequences of my actions, Ruth."

"Would you do it again?" she asked, softly, surprising them both.

"In a heartbeat," he replied without hesitation.

"I never thanked you properly," she whispered as she brushed her fingers against the crook of his arm, "I am grateful, Harry. Truly."

"I know."

"I should go."

He nodded and then turned away swiftly in an attempt to hide his disappointment. Jaw set he gazed back out across the skyline of the city he had fought so long and hard to protect. She allowed herself a moment to drink in the sight of him, committing his familiar features to her memory, before she turned and walked away.

"Ruth," his voice stopped her in her tracks but she didn't turn back around, "when they come for me, and they will," he said, looking at her intently, "no heroics." Her fighting spirit was momentarily rekindled but was ruthlessly quashed as he whispered, fiercely, "It's my turn."

Her footsteps echoed into the night as she walked away and didn't look back.

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Reluctantly, and with no small amount of grumbling, Harry struggled up the snow laden path leading to the front of his house. It was dark and cold outside and he realised that most people in their right minds would wish to be staying home for the evening but the lure of home was somewhat spoiled for him by the curfew that had been imposed upon him. He slammed the front door behind him and dumped his handful of shopping bags at his feet before shrugging out of his coat and shoving it unceremoniously on to the hook on the wall. The carrier bags rustled noisily as he reached for them again and he froze mid-stoop as he realised two things simultaneously: Scarlet was not in her basket where she should have been and the living room door, which he distinctly remembered closing, was now ajar. Shopping forgotten he moved silently down the hall and pushed the door to the living room open wary of what he would find.

"Cutting it fine aren't you?" Ruth asked as he cautiously slipped in to the room. Harry instantly felt himself relax a little bit and raised an eyebrow at her as he took in the fact that she was curled up in his armchair holding Scarlet and nursing a tumbler of whiskey. Despite being assured that the conditions of his bail were completely confidential he was unsurprised to find that Ruth clearly knew about the terms and conditions of his curfew.

"I'm maximising my freedom," he answered as he crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a generous measure of whiskey, "whilst I still can." He turned and leant against the sideboard, trying to study her face but finding it hard to do so in the dim half-light.

"Why are you here?" He tempered the bluntness of his question by softening his voice.

"To save you from yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"Tomorrow morning you're going to be charged with treason," she told him, working hard to keep her voice even, "It's been recommended that you be remanded in custody as you pose a flight risk."

"I see," he said, softly, taking a sudden interest in the contents of his glass.

"Do you?" she snapped, "Do you see what this means, Harry?"

He looked at her then, disbelief and anger flashing in his eyes. "You want me to run."

"Yes."

"No," he growled, slamming down his glass on the sideboard.

"Why the bloody hell not?" she countered, angrily, standing up to face him.

"We've been through this, Ruth," he said, warningly.

"You don't deserve to go to prison, Harry."

"I made a very selfish decision, Ruth, as you well know," he says, quietly, holding her gaze, and I'm willing to live with the consequences of that decision because the alternative was unacceptable."

"And this isn't?" she countered, furiously.

"Ruth-" he growled, warningly.

"Do you love me?"

"What?" he asked, momentarily stunned at her forthrightness.

"Do you?" she pressed.

"You know I do," he said, quietly, and the look in his eyes melted her heart.

"Then listen to me, please," she implored, waiting for him to nod in agreement before she carried on. "There's passage on a boat that will be leaving the docks tonight. It's heading to France. There's not a lot of time left, Harry." He shook his head emphatically at her as she pleaded him with her eyes not to fight her on this. A flash of memory entered his head of him having a similar struggle with Zoe all those years ago. "I have passports and a more than generous pension fund has been set up for us-"

Harry's head snapped up at that. "Us?"

She swallowed nervously and fought hard against the impulse to remove her gaze from his. "Yes, us."

"As in, you and me?" he asked, slowly.

"Yes."

"Together?" he clarified.

"Yes, Harry. You and me together."

Something akin to joy flickered momentarily in his eyes but vanished as he cleared his throat and looked away. "I can't ask you to do that, Ruth."

"You're not asking, Harry. I am." She moved until she was directly in front of him, touching his arm gently in a bid to get him to look at her again. "If I have to I'll beg you to come with me," she said, softly.

"I thought we couldn't be any more together than we already were." She heard the doubt and the hurt that laced the familiar words and knew that he deserved an explanation. She couldn't blame him for questioning her motives, not when she'd hurt him so dearly.

She reached out and cupped his cheek, cradling his face as she spoke. "I was wrong about that, so wrong, her voice cracked with emotion and she desperately blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, "I love you, Harry and I want us to be together." The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips and she half sobbed – half laughed at the sight of it "It'd be a bit bloody hard to be together, in any sense of the word, if you're in prison."

"You're right," he murmured, voice broken with untold emotion, as he reached out and wiped the tears away from her cheek, "as always."

"Kiss me," she commanded, unable to deny them both any longer, and he happily complied teasing her lips with feather light touches until she reached for him and pulled his head down to hers, kissing him with every ounce of energy and passion she could muster. She left him breathless and reeling as they pulled apart and he rested his forehead against hers as he fought to control his somewhat erratic breathing.

"How much time do we have?" he asked, warm breath puffing across her cheek as he spoke.

"An hour, two at the most," she told him, seriously, "Is there anything you need?"

He smiled at her happily and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. "I have everything I need right here."

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**Any, and all, reviews and comments are appreciated.**

**Thank you for reading. **


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